The leathery sound of folding wings and smouldering embers marks their chilling arrival.

Clack clack
of the hoofed feet echoing uncomfortably through the frozen corridoors and timeless halls. The
flames are all but diminished here it would seem.

The skinny man steps forward while the large one smoulders at the entryway.

M,m,m,mmy Liege, I beg of you for forgiv---I Vill tolerate grovelling in my presence WORM! Do not
forget whom your pitiful existence depends on!

I am sorry my liege it, it’s just I come bearing tidings…

The ice green eyes wash over the hellish spawn, burrowing deep.

…we have located two of the wandering stones my liege! It would seem the mortals are occupied
elsewhere. Hehehe. I must insist we strike while the whip is aflame--- YOU shall not presume
anything of me WORM! But this is promising – you WILL capture them this time and you shall not fail
me again.

Yes my liege, but ummm.. these stones may prove more difficult to get to….

Fail me again WORM, and you will truly know a frozen hell.

Of course my lord anything… It shall be done.

The leathern wings unfurl, shaking off a layer of thin frost.

Oh and Malek, If you see those Adventurer’s again… Annihilate them. Every. Last. one!

SYLUS AND WAYLON catch-up

A thin tongue extends to wet the tip of a long boney finger. Slightly salty to the pallet mixed with
traces of ink. The finger traces the edge of a sheet of parchement until the moisture finds purchase
and the page is turned over. An audible crack of bones can be heard as the arm comes to rest on the
desk. Eeurg! ‘these blasted bones of mine, twisted and gnarled like the bows of some decrepid tree.
‘sigh’ you there girl, hand me that stack of papers’. The flat faced foreigner turns to face the old,
hunched keeper of records. ‘I am not as child as I look!’ ‘Getting better I see! But think you mean
young not child, regardless hand me those papers… woman’ ‘My name would do finely’

Looking out the window Sylus looks upon the courtyard of the Mirial. Below Mayor Key goes about
her duties, Mr Khundrakar to her side, Young Master key to the left and a small gaggle about her
heels. She gazes across the rooftops of the town, thatched and stone. ‘so far from home’ she says in
her native tongue. Gaze gazes back at her from within his satchel. ‘eeeeeeee’ he says.

Her eyes, however are drawn towards something across those sleepy rooves towards the eastern
farms by the bell wood. The hunger draws her gaze there as it always has. But, nothing…
‘look again’ sylus wispers the voice of nolx from her teachings long ago. There is always more to be
seen… always’
Sylus waits transfixed on that spot on the treeline. AH there did you see that tree moved gaze!
‘eeeee’ gaze laughs. A large oak swaying back and forth, searching.. and there a figure, small, stocky,
a dwarf?.

‘uuuhhh, My Waylon sir, I must be home for sick is me and my bed!’

‘Yes yess do what you will, but don’t let it be a common occura…. Oh shes gone’

HELOY ISLE and the Ember Stone

Flames roar and masonry crumbles. The thick sweet smell of burned flesh and charred bone was
pungent and stifling. Eyes watering and clogged with ash, Mormos Crawls along the flagstones
towards his kinsworn brothers and sisters.

Why was this happening?! His people had always been so careful, so... understanding... so…
obedient. They had sacrificed all to their accursed forebears for a chance of peace, and for what??
Just to be killed, nay slaughtered at their cruel hand.

Small leathern wings flap overhead, hunched primitive creatures dash through the firelight cutting
down anything in their savage path.

He reaches out to the unmoving body, hand brushing it away as it disintegrates into dark ash and
cinder. Crunch and crack… His fingerbones splinter like twigs, his wrists shatters like a roof tile. A
smouldering hoof twists his manged arm into the ground with sickening ease. Mormos violently
coughs blood.

‘Come now kinchild, your time on this plain is at an end. The bargain was struck long ago and now
you shall return to the land of your old master.’

‘Unless…’ comes a smoother and sweeter voice ‘you pledge your armies to us? Join us instead and
rid yourself of Dispater… stay here on this side, live on, fight on, joinnn usssss.

‘Brother we have what we need from these halfbloods’

‘Brother there is always opportunity in the most unlikely and unfortunate circumstance.
you.. there.. Your superiors and dignitaries are all dust… it falls on you with the next strongest blood
to save them! Save them from our old master… save them and…sign hereeeeee.

Mormos looks up at the two archdevils. Such Malice so vicous. With the last of his strength, he lifts
his trembling, gushing mangles stump to the flaming parchment.

‘gooooood….’ A voice whispers, hot breath in his ear ‘very goooooood indeeeeeed’